


Pendulum Heart (A Fool's Lament)

by TheNightshadeDeluxe



Category: Big Bang (Band), GTOP (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7186166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightshadeDeluxe/pseuds/TheNightshadeDeluxe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiyong regrets his moment of madness at letting Seunghyun go. But is it all too little, too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pendulum Heart (A Fool's Lament)

The pictures that had cluttered Jiyong’s twitter feed on this gloomy Sunday morning sparked something primal and fiery in his blood.

The haunted look in Seunghyun’s eyes at the endless sea of fans waiting to take their piece of him, if only for a second, was a combination of exhaustion and guarded alertness. Even through distance and circumstance it was the one look, the one unguarded moment captured by the hundreds of phones and paparazzi lenses that cut Jiyong to the core.

He knew the noise would have assaulted Seunghyun’s ears, the lights would have burned his retinas and while Jiyong knew they were over, it still hurt that he wasn’t there to at least suffer with him, to share the burden of their lives. It hurt most that he’s not there to offer a smile to let him know that he knew, he understood. That it was okay, that they’d be okay.

But it simply wasn’t... and he couldn’t.

Instead, he sank back into his mattress, pillows and blankets and let his vile self-pity wrap its cold fingers around his mourning heart. He’d give it its dues; let it hold court over him as he wallowed in its boundless gloom. After all, he was the one who’d walked away from what could have been. It was Jiyong that had decided that they shouldn’t continue with... what did he call it? That’s right, their temporary insanity.

Ji had figured that the pressures of the road and their working lives had given way to something trivial, something just to knock the edges off. That it was nothing more than a little respite from the ever-present bedlam was how he saw it at the time. Even though he had pursued Seunghyun, had wanted his touch, his kiss for as long as he could remember, it didn’t seem real.

By the same rusty token, he couldn’t believe that they could ever be something more. He figured that Seunghyun had relented because he had worn down his resistance and that he’d just needed physical contact, a little-sacred bliss amongst the constant dissonance and noise of their lives.

_Fool._

He knew now – after the fact and clearly too late – that he was wrong. So very fucking wrong. The very definition of insanity was walking away from that beautiful man, the one his heart truly desired and always had. The same one now staring out into the cold world from beneath a black beanie and a mask. The very one baring a silent heartache that he wholly understood because Jiyong had been the sole architect of it.

Seunghyun’s eyes broadcast it out like a beacon and Jiyong caught the signal like an arrow to the chest. The payload delivered in full directly into his poisoned heart. And it hurt like every conceivable hell combined. He bit back the fresh tears that threatened to fall. It had only been a couple of weeks since and he’d thought he’d get through this and they’d be able to move on. To go back to what they were before they started down this road.

Yet so far, all he’d managed to do was ruminate on his own selfish folly, wallow in its dank depths and feel wholly sorry for himself. For his own aching heart and his blatant stupidity at pushing his beloved Seunghyun away and for convincing himself that it was right.

_Fucking pathetic idiot._

 

*

 

THE FAR LEFT SWING (tick)

Jiyong began testing the boundaries with Seunghyun, purely started as a way to pass the time in the studio when it was quiet and they had nothing but time on their hands. Initially, Seunghyun had ignored or rebutted his playful advances, not taking them for anymore but harmless games. Jiyong persisted once his initial games gave way to something else, something deeper than he was willing to admit to himself.

Rather than walking away, Jiyong persisted, almost to see how far he could push before Seunghyun reacted and just how he would react. Seunghyun would more often than not merely wave him off or laugh at him when he pushed his flirtatious little pranks, still believing they were nothing more than Jiyong’s usual impishness.

But Seunghyun went as far as Jiyong was willing to go. He’d been resisting his own desires for the man for as long as he could remember and probably longer still. And here he was, offering himself up on a platter to him. He was still guarded but as Jiyong persisted and grew bolder, he finally relented. For better or worse, he surrendered and fell prey to his own selfish desires. Even if Jiyong didn’t feel the same way (unlikely, as far as he guessed) it didn’t seem to matter. As much as he tried to disengage his heart and mind from the physical, it was a task he wasn’t sure he was up for.

So, Seunghyun caved and dared Jiyong on. He wanted to see how far Jiyong would take it before he backed out. Wanted to see if he could push past the façade, see if there was anything real beneath it all. He highly doubted it but it felt so right having Jiyong close to him, closer than he’d ever been. He also knew that heartbreak wasn’t far away. It never would be as far as Kwon Jiyong was concerned.

Seunghyun knew it was coming and he still let himself fall for it.

 

*

 

Jiyong had wanted to taste Seunghyun’s kiss for longer than he could recall and when it finally, blessedly happened, it was beyond his wildest imaginings. Through those lips he’d witnessed his pain tumble out and weave itself into the fabric of his life; they had become part of his musical (and his life’s) landscape. Those tantalising lips through which his deep timbre flowed to caress his ears as his words insinuated themselves into the very core of his being.

The same lips that now sweetly moved in sync with his and it made Jiyong dizzy with disbelief that this long awaited moment had arrived. The crackling tension in the air around them dissolved into faded points of light behind his eyes as their lips finally met and he slipped further into his kiss.

Their bodies crushed together in the darkened dressing room as they kissed and Jiyong’s heart beat rapid-fire against his chest. Their kiss was dizzying and the soft slick motion of their tongues finally making contact made his knees almost buckle beneath him, but Seunghyun held him fast.

Their torrid affair commenced quickly with a quiet and undeniable intensity that simmered and hummed beneath the surface of their lives. Consequences be damned.

 

*

 

THE FAR RIGHT SWING (tock)

Jiyong woke in a blind panic at three in the morning. He was alone and gripped by a fierce realisation that this couldn’t be. That they couldn’t be. It was completely fucking insane. What the fuck was he even thinking? He reasoned that he hadn’t been, that his dick had been doing all of the thinking for him. There was no denying that Seunghyun was beautiful, you’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss that, but this?

No. This was never going to work. It couldn’t be maintained in the real world. No way, no fucking how.

Fuck. What had he done? He’d jeopardised everything they’d work so hard and so long for, that’s what. There was no reason for this. God, if Yang ever heard about this it would be the end. Not just at YG, what if the world at large found out about them? What then? He had to stop this before it got any further. They’d had their fun but it had to stop.

In the morning, he’d talk to Seunghyun. He was sure that he’d understand and prayed that it wouldn’t impact their work here on out.

He spent the rest of the night in a fitful, restless sleep.

 

*

 

Jiyong should have known that it was not going to end well. Seunghyun had reacted far worse than what Jiyong had expected. Seunghyun reminded him that he was the one that pursued him and against his initial reticence, had broken him down until he relented. Jiyong had worked his will until his heart gave way and gave in to what he’d wanted since middle school.

And now he was throwing him away. Just like that because of his damned selfish pride. Because he was worried that it was going to impact him negatively. Seunghyun grew cold then, there was a steely set to his jaw and he shed no tears for his shattered heart. He wouldn’t dare give Jiyong the satisfaction of seeing him so broken. Not now, not ever. The selfish prick didn’t fucking deserve it.

As he stood to leave Jiyong’s apartment, he’d told him not to contact him while he was away. He was not interested in anything he had to say from now on. He slammed the door behind him as he left, an exclamation point of sorts. He’d throw himself into his personal work and try to forget about the lovesick fool that Jiyong had so heartlessly made of him. In all honesty, Seunghyun knew it was coming. He just wasn’t expecting it quite so soon.

_Fucking idiot._

Seunghyun waited until he was well within the confines of his own sanctuary before he let his devastating heartbreak wreak its havoc over him. As he locked the door behind him he slumped against it and crumpled to the floor, the violent blaze in his chest giving way to bitter tears shed in cold, broken disbelief. 

He gasped for air as he howled out his sickening heartache into the silent walls around him, punching his fist against the tiled floor (and subsequently staining it with his blood) all the while cursing every last molecule that was Kwon Jiyong. The pain in his heart far outweighed the pain in his knuckles and those would later require a few stitches.

Unlike his devastated heart, there was no ready fix for that. For the time being, whisky and red wine would have to do.

 

*

 

THE SILENT CENTRE

Jiyong picks up his phone. No messages. No missed calls. No new notifications of any sort. It felt like the world had gone radio silent on him, like it knew that he needed his space. For once, the world had backed down and left him to his own devices, which was completely unheard of. They were usually baying and clamouring at him about something, nothing, everything but so far today, oddly, there was nothing.

His fame was a double-edged sword that he had obstinately impaled himself on. He had the adoration of everyone in the world, all but from the one that truly mattered. The one that he had pushed away so callously, without rhyme or reason except for his perception of how he thought it would impact his and their collective careers.

He dragged his unwilling body out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, stumbling over the growing stash of empty bottles of wine, soju and tequila. He looked haggard and tired, eyes red rimmed and puffy with a smattering of three-day growth along his jaw and top lip that made his skin itch. The slight ache in his head was nothing in comparison to that inside his chest. Jiyong looked at the picture on his phone again. The one that was tearing down his resolve to give Seunghyun the peace and space he’d asked for and had so far respected.

In a moment of pure defiance and selfish determination Jiyong pulled up his number on his phone and dialled. It rang, almost to the point of ringing out, and before he hung up it was answered with a deep sigh.

“Jiyong,” came the cold, cautious statement.

“Can you come over?” he asked, desperately hoping that his voice did not convey the dangerous level of anxiety that constricted his heart and vocal chords.

“Not really, Jiyong. I, uh, I’m kinda busy,” came the soft reply. Jiyong knew it was a lie. He knew there was nothing on his schedule for a few days because he’d checked and if nothing else, it was his goddamned job to know.

“Seunghyun...please. Please just say you will.”

Jiyong felt hot tears prickling at his eyes and if Seunghyun refused his request the dam would burst, but he no longer cared. He’d fucking plead and beg if he had to. His foolish pride now came last to what his heart truly wanted.

There was silence on the other end of the line. The pregnant pause ramping up Jiyong’s unease, the strain extending until Jiyong felt like he was going to snap like an overstretched rubber band. A long drawn out sigh and a single quietly uttered word on the end of the line broke the simmering tension.

“Okay.”

Jiyong was so wound up he almost didn’t register that Seunghyun had agreed to come and see him. His stomach and jaw both clenched in anticipation.

“What? W-when?”

“Give me an hour.”

“O-okay,” he stammered, still barely believing his ears.

Jiyong hung up and quickly tidied his apartment, collecting the empty bottles strewn about the place, making his bed and washing his tear stained pillowcases and sheets. He showered, washing his hair and shaving off the itchy three-day growth. He washed his tear-stained face under the hot spray hoping that the puffiness around his eyes would be somewhat subdued by the time Seunghyun arrived. Even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter. His vanity needed to take a back seat now.

For the first time in over a fortnight, the dim cloud over his head seemed to lift and his heart buoyed, if only slightly against the ever-present little flicker of terror still anchored firmly in his gut.

As he dressed, he flung open the windows and continued straightening up his neglected apartment; the wait for Seunghyun to grace him with his presence was proving to be the longest hour of his life.

 

*

 

It was just over the hour mark when his doorbell rang.

His heart simultaneously threatened to choke him and sink into the pit of his stomach. As he opened the door, it took everything in him not to pitch himself forward into Seunghyun, to wrap his arms around him, bury his face into his chest, cry his heart out and beg for his forgiveness. Beg and plead and beseech him to absolve him of his reckless stupidity until he was hoarse.

But he didn’t.

He just stood taking him in, his entire body buzzing as he resisted the overwhelming urge to launch himself into the slender frame of the man before him. Seunghyun looked tired and Jiyong gazed at him, almost not believing that he was really here on his threshold.

“Come in,” he whispered.

Seunghyun stepped past and Jiyong slipped the door closed behind him.

“So, what is it you wanted to see me for Jiyong?” he asked. The cold steel in his voice was also reflected in his eyes.

There was an exasperated edge to his question and Seunghyun looked at him like he was trying to set him on fire. Jiyong glanced away, unable to maintain eye contact. The way Seunghyun regarded him so coldly stung and it set the toxic blades of his anxiety churning again. But he knew that he deserved it.

Jiyong took a moment to gather his composure to be able to say the things he wanted to say. To make Seunghyun understand in all the ways that he was wrong. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have a speech prepared. His heart knew what he needed to say. Even if he stumbled, he’d get it out.

“I... uh. I just... uhm.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger in a vain attempt to get the right words to come to him now. They were resisting his efforts.

“Seunghyun, I just... need you to know that I was wrong. So, so very wrong.”

“I know,” he replied. So cold and emotionless.

Jiyong’s heart stopped in his chest as the blades of his guilt whirred to life with more force and ferocity than before. It steeled his resolve to speak his heart’s truth. He stood in front of Seunghyun and squared his shoulders.

“Choi Seunghyun. I fucking love you. To the ends of the earth and back again. I’m sorry I was a fucking selfish moron. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. These past few weeks have been all kinds of hell and I...” He paused as he was overcome with the torturous emotions he was feeling, breaking down and through his tearful racking sobs, he continued in ragged gasps. “I love you... I’ll always love you and I can’t bear that I did this... to us both... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Jiyong slid to his knees in front of him then, sobbing into his hands unable to contain the hurt he was feeling and the hurt he knew he’d inflicted. He’d let Seunghyun see it all. See him for all that he was.

Seunghyun spoke quietly: “If that’s true, Jiyong then you have to fight for me. Prove that you truly want this, that you want me and that you’re not going to have another moment of doubt. I can’t go through this again. I fucking won’t.”

Jiyong sat mutely and merely nodded, too choked up to speak, his eyes blurring with fresh tears.

He let them fall as he finally spoke: “I will, god knows, I will. You’re all I’ve ever wanted and...” His voice broke, as he was overwhelmed. This time, Jiyong didn’t stop himself. He flung himself at Seunghyun, crowding him with his form, his arms pulling him in, his heart and pulse beating erratically and he held on for dear life as his tears fell and he sobbed unabashedly against him.

Seunghyun let him cry his heart out against him but held him fast. When he felt his tears subside, he pulled him back, wiping tear tracks from his face. Seunghyun’s heart clenched in his chest at the sight of Jiyong like this; so bereft and so broken. It was an honesty he hadn’t yet been privy to, except in those small intimate moments. This was bigger than all of them combined but he wasn’t about to back down from his position, not for a second.

“Jiyong?” Seunghyun said, gliding his scarred knuckles under his chin gently. Jiyong looked up at him and Seunghyun sighed and lifted him to his feet.

“Yeah?” Jiyong sniffled, his shining red-rimmed eyes meeting Seunghyun’s expectantly.

“If you truly want this, like you say you do, then you’re going to have to work to prove it to me.” Jiyong nodded while taking in what Seunghyun was saying. “If we do this, we’re doing this properly. I’m talking dates, flowers, the whole nine. If we do this, there’s no in between bullshit.”

Jiyong nodded mutely, enthusiastically and squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of emotion that flooded through his core and broke him again. He slumped against Seunghyun’s chest, fingers clutching at his shoulders, promising that he would over and over through his broken sobs and in between apologies.

“Good. Then pick me up tomorrow night.” The ice in his voice started to crack, but only a little.

Jiyong froze.

“What?”

“Tomorrow night. You’re taking me out to dinner. On a date,” he said matter-of-factly, his voice still wrapped in a layer of cold steel. “This is how you’ll start proving yourself to me, Jiyong. This is how I’ll determine if I can truly forgive you.”

Jiyong dried his tears with the backs of his hands and pulled away from Seunghyun. Finding something of his own steely resilience again and standing a little straighter, Jiyong looked Seunghyun directly in the eye.

“How does seven sound?”

“Great,” Seunghyun said. “See you tomorrow,” he said as he turned and left without a further word on the subject.

Jiyong stared at the door still trying to figure out what had just happened.

In the living room of his gently lifting melancholy, Seunghyun offered Jiyong’s heart a ray of shining hope. Jiyong felt the swinging pendulums of doubt and fear inside of him stop mid-swing, the lines breaking free and the rusting globes crumbling to ash.

Before he could spare a second thought to what had transpired, he pulled out his phone and began making some calls...

 

FIN

 

 

Necessary listens: Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Pretty When You Cry - Vast


End file.
